Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
SLOAN
“Seriously, I appreciate the sentiment, but you two can’t be here.” Sloan looked over at Edison and Elwood in the last rays of the dying daylight. “They’ll be here soon. They may be here already.”
Elwood shook his plump gnome head. Edison’s tiny helper was clad in armor—actual steel armor.
Where they had found a metal suit for his small frame, Sloan had no idea.
More than likely the gnome had conjured it himself using his magical abilities.
Along with the armor, Elwood held a double-bladed axe that looked so large in his small hands, it might very well topple him over.
The gnome looked at Sloan with solemn eyes and shook his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to agree with Elwood on this one.” Edison looked at Sloan through the wire mask he wore.
Edison, unlike Elwood, did not have the luxury of wearing a steel suit to battle.
The inventor had to settle for gear he had found at Kimberly’s estate.
Lucky for him, the gargoyle was a sports and fitness fanatic.
Edison was wearing the mask an umpire would wear to a baseball game.
Shoulder pads, kneepads, and a torso piece that covered him from neck to shins completed the outfit.
The brown leather of the cushioned pad covering most of Edison’s body was ribbed, making him look like a giant roly-poly bug.
Along with his ridiculous battle garb, Edison held a rifle the likes of which Sloan had never seen before; there was no ramrod to jam an iron ball into its barrel. There was, however, an extra lever underneath the trigger portion.
Sloan was torn at the moment. Above anything else, she was grateful to have friends willing to stand with her at the last moment. She was also unwilling to see them in harm’s way.
“They’re going to come fast.” Sloan smiled sadly at her friends. “You don’t have the healing ability that I do, nor the experience needed to survive what’s coming. I can’t let you do this.”
Elwood spat out a phrase of high-pitched gibberish, placing his axe over his shoulder.
“Elwood says that’s not your decision.” Edison looked down at his gun.
“Besides, we’re more than capable of taking care of ourselves.
Don’t let our stunning good looks fool you.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be able to do some damage with my latest invention.
I call it a Repeating Rifle. It can hold eight rounds at once, and what’s more, it can?—”
As gently as Sloan could, she caught Edison across the jaw with a right cross. Edison stumbled, mumbling something, and fell to the ground, unconscious.
“Come on.” Sloan grabbed a surprised Elwood by the back of his armor. With her other hand, she hefted Edison’s still form from the ground. “No one else is dying because of me.”
Sloan ran with both the unconscious inventor and the struggling gnome back to Kimberly’s estate. The house was silent as she entered the front room and made for the cellar.
Elwood was yammering away in his native dialect, still struggling to free himself from Sloan’s grip. It was useless. With her foot, Sloan opened the door to the cellar and placed Edison inside. She set a tearful Elwood beside the inventor.
“I’ll come back for you when this is over.” Sloan felt her heart ache at the tears coming down Elwood’s tiny face. He reached up for her, still mumbling. “If I don’t come back, stay here until the vampires leave the city.”
That was all the advice she could give him. She knew if she stayed any longer, her resolve would crumble. Sloan shut the cellar door behind her and ran back out of the estate to Term’s main road.
It was completely dark now, with no one to light lanterns or posts along the city streets.
The only light that came now was from the stars and the moon overhead.
Sloan skidded to a halt as she reached the main road into town.
She wasn’t alone. A large group of three or four dozen New Hope soldiers stood at the entrance.
Even from this distance, she could see the pale nature of their skin.
Sloan unsheathed her sword. Her thumb reached for the switch that infused her blade with the humming red mage power. She bottled her fear and embraced the rage that lay just under the surface. This time, she could feel her top canines lengthen.
“Charlotte Sloan.” One of the vampire soldiers took a step ahead of the rest. He was still a block away, but his voice carried over the calm night air. “For treason to the queen of the city of New Hope, you are ordered to lay down your weapon and surrender yourself.”
The voice of the commander wasn’t familiar to Sloan. But that was no real surprise; the queen’s army was massive. She would choose a leader with no personal ties to Sloan to bring her in.
“I am not a man of patience,” the vampire leader barked again. “Lay down your weapon!”
Her senses were on overdrive, so much so, she heard someone approaching from behind. Of course they would surround her.
Sloan’s vision went red as she felt adrenaline soak her veins with power. “Come and take it!”